


You Can't Be Both

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: American Politics, Bisexual Female Character, F/M, Femdom, Lesbian Bar, Modern Era, Pegging, Praise Kink, Proud Boys, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 15:08:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30040560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Liam is a wannabe Proud Boy. After a few months of getting involved with the group he expects to be attending his first official meeting, but he ends up at the wrong bar. There he meets Chloe, who has a lot of opinions about his politics, and suggestions on how he can improve himself - suggestions that include letting her peg him in the bar's restroom.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Anonymous





	You Can't Be Both

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this fic for my fandom, but it wasn't well received. But I really like it - I like the redemption arc and I like the smut and I really like the hopeful ending - so I thought I would change the details and post it as an original work. I'm still posting on anon, though, because I'm chicken. Thanks for reading!

“Meeting room?” The woman behind the bar frowns and slowly shakes her head. “There’s no meeting room here, sorry.”

Liam sighs and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He’s already ten minutes late to his first official meeting, Mr Johnson is going to be _pissed_ , and now he’s being told there isn’t a meeting room at all? There must be some mistake. 

He turns around and takes a better look at the rest of the place. There’s jangly alt country coming out of the old jukebox in the corner, a couple of pool tables - only one of which is being used, two people watching carefully while the third takes aim, and a shared whoop of joy as the balls break and a couple of them drop into the hole along the long edge of the table. They’re all women, Liam notices. The people playing pool, the other group throwing darts, the couple sitting at the tall table with their heads close together and their hands hidden under the table - all women.

Yes, there is definitely some mistake.

“You okay?”

Liam glances over at the person sitting a few seats down at the bar, smiling at him with something like amusement on her lips. Yes, another woman. A very pretty one, with shining ginger hair cut so that it’s short at the back but leaves a stream of hair hanging down over one keen green eye. She shifts under his gaze, turns to face him, crosses her jean-clad legs and leans lazily towards where her drink sits on the bar next to her elbow.

“I’m late for a meeting,” he replies gruffly, turning his head to avoid her gaze, focusing on the bottles lined behind the bar instead. “I thought it was here, but apparently not.”

“Nope, no meeting here.” She pauses, the time cut with the sound of her taking a sip from her glass. “Out of curiosity, where did you think _here_ was, anyway?”

“Jake’s Pub?”

Liam’s phone vibrates in his jacket pocket, and he ignores it. The woman releases a bark of a laugh, which shocks him into looking at her again. Her gaze is even more keen than it was before, and maybe a little bit mean.

“Yeah, you’re in the wrong place, buddy. Jake’s Pub is all the way on the other side of town.”

“Jake’s Pub?” The bartender is back, carrying a tray filled with empty glasses. She tucks a lock of black hair behind her ear and turns to the other woman. “Chloe, isn’t that where Jason—”

“Yup,” the other woman - Chloe - interrupts, popping the _p_ as though it has offended her personally. “That’s the one. You’re better off here.” She turns back to Liam, gestures towards the far wall. There’s a sign there, a painting of a delicate woman with wings sprouted out of her back, holding a wand with glitter dripping off of it. “This is Tink’s Pub. Better than Jake’s Pub in every possible way.”

“You got that right! Hey, how did you end up here anyway?” The bartender asks, poking her head up from where he can hear the clinking of glasses below.

“Must have been Google Maps misunderstanding me.” He’d been in a rush, had just accepted the first suggestion without looking very carefully. 

“Yeah,” Chloe says. “Must have been that.” She turns to watch the people playing pool, a tall woman with a shock of green hair and two shorter women, all of them with visible tattoos. The tall woman makes a shot that comes up short, and Chloe shouts at her, “Come on Jack, that was an easy one! Are you losing your touch?” Jack waves her off and steps back to let one of the others take her turn. It looks like they’re having fun, and it makes Liam feel a little sad. He can’t remember the last time he had fun. His phone vibrates again and his heart sinks even more.

“Aren’t you going off to your important meeting?” Chloe asks. “You’re gonna be late, aren’t you?”

“I’m already late.” 

“Better late than never.”

Liam’s not so sure. The idea of walking into that meeting more than 30 minutes late makes him feel ill. If he doesn’t show up he can always make up an excuse, his car broke down and his phone broke or something like that. There will always be another meeting, and Mr Johnson will forgive him. Maybe.

“So what’s this meeting, anyway?” Liam realizes he’s been staring down at his hands, and he looks up to Chloe gazing at him again. She’s on edge, angry, and he knows why. He knows that, somehow, she knows exactly what the meeting is that he’s missing, so there’s no point in lying to her.

“Proud boys,” he mutters, quietly so only she can hear. It’s not that he’s embarrassed, but he’s already drawn enough attention to himself and he doesn’t want to get into a fight with _everyone_. She lifts her chin and stares down her nose at him.

“That’s what I thought. I had a friend…” she takes a deep breath, shakes her head. “Anyway, what’s today’s meeting about. Owning the libs? Beating up antifa? How white men are the _real_ minority?” Her beautiful face contorts into an ugly sneer and he can’t help being defensive.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being white.”

She leaps up from her chair and a second later she’s in his face, her finger poking painfully into his chest. “Shut the fuck up. White men control _everything_ and you hold down _everyone_ and then you have the gall to whine every time it isn’t about you? That attitude is sick and it’s breaking the country. So just shut the fuck up.” 

“Hey…” The bartender is back, glancing back and forth between them warily. Chloe, having realized just how close she’d gotten, takes a breath and steps back. “Sorry, Lisa,” she mumbles. 

“S’okay. I just don’t want a bunch of Proud Boys down here next weekend, you know?” 

“Hey, I’m not like that,” Liam interjects. “I wouldn’t do that.” 

“Oh, you wouldn’t do that, would you,” Chloe mocks, but she’s back on her stool. “I bet you wouldn’t. I bet you’re a real nice guy, aren’t you.”

There’s a lot of answers Liam could give. He’s pretty sure he’s not a nice guy, not really, but he’s not _bad_. He’s never beaten anyone up, not personally, and he doesn’t say the worst shit in the chatrooms. Although, now that he’s thinking about it there have been a number of times when his friends have said things that made him uncomfortable, but he always holds his tongue because he doesn’t want to rock the boat. And his friends, they’re good people. They’re just angry about the state of the world, that’s all. But Liam knows that this isn’t what Chloe wants to hear, so he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t really want to fight with her. He likes her, her energy, her fire, and he wants her to like him too. But he’s afraid that nothing about him is likeable to her.

The group at the pool table finishes their game and comes over to the bar for drinks. The tall woman - Jack - presses a kiss to Chloe’s cheek and whispers something in her ear. Chloe nods, and Jack gives Liam a dirty look before joining the other two women at the far end of the bar. 

“Is she your, uh, girlfriend?”

Chloe laughs and shakes her head. “Nah, I don’t have a girlfriend. I have a lot of friends, who are girls, and some of them I fuck.” Liam’s expression must amuse her, because she laughs again. “Does that surprise you?”

“No, of course not. If you were my friend I’d… oh…” he’s opened his big mouth again, but it just makes her laugh louder.

“Fair enough. Hey Lisa, can I get another Sprite? Do you want something to drink?”

Liam shakes his head. “I don’t drink.”

“Neither do I, but they have plenty of pop. How about a Coke?”

Liam acquiesces, and Chloe orders him a Coke, which Lisa delivers quickly.

Chloe takes a sip and turns back to Liam. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Why not? You’re hot. There must be plenty of women for whom white supremacy isn’t a dealbreaker.”

Liam huffs, frustrated again. “I told you, I’m not like that.”

“You also told me there’s nothing wrong with being white, which indicates to me that you are _exactly_ like that.”

“It’s just a thing we say,” he insists. “But it’s hard, sometimes. You’ll say something and it’ll turn out it’s racist and then everybody thinks you’re a racist but you’re not, you’re just learning.”

“That’s true, we’re all learning, all the time. But I gotta say, hanging out with Proud Boys doesn’t exactly scream ‘I’m learning not to be racist.’ It’s like you’re just making excuses.”

“But they’re my friends.”

“You need to make better friends.” 

He knows she’s right. Sitting here with her, sipping his Coke and listening to the murmur of the people around them, he imagines a different life. One where he’s surrounded by kind people, people who take the time to talk to him, to listen to his concerns instead of talking over him or shutting him down. In the months he’s been spending his time with Mr Johnson and Ian and the others, his life hasn’t improved, he’s just gotten more and more angry. He’s tired of being angry. He wants to be happy. But he’s not sure he deserves it.

“You okay?” 

Chloe’s shifted over, and she’s now sitting on the stool directly next to him. She has a bag, too, he didn’t notice it before, a big cloth thing with a thick strap that she’s set on the bar. She looks up into his face, and he sees for the first time that she has a smattering of freckles across her nose. They’re cute. She’s so cute.

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“New friends.” And he raises his glass to her. She snorts and clinks her glass against his.

“To new friends.”

“So we’re friends now?” Liam’s excited at the prospect, being friends with this woman, and his heart sinks when Chloe shakes her head and her smile slowly falls into a frown.

“Not quite. There is one more thing I need from you before we can really be friends.”

“Shit, what? Look, if you’re going to ask me to stay away from—” She interrupts him with a finger against his lips, at the same time his phone vibrates in his pocket yet again, a reminder of what he’s missing.

“Let me fuck you.” She whispers the words in his ear, and they are so quiet he’s certain that he’s misheard her.

“What? It sounds like you said—”

“Let me fuck you. In the ass.” Nope, he hadn’t misheard. His cock, which doesn’t do much on a normal day, twitches in his jeans. He’s shocked, both by her suggestion and by his body’s response to it, so he just sits there while she pulls the bag over and opens it so he can see what’s inside.

There are a few books, a wide beat up leather wallet, and a granola bar. There’s also a pink washcloth, some black leather, and a small bottle of clear liquid, and a lot of purple silicone. 

“Shit,” Liam says, as he rearranges himself without really thinking about it. “Oh, shit.”

“Do you want to?” Chloe asks. Her eyes are wide and hopeful, but he can sense the tension behind them. She wants him, but she’s still teasing him.

“Isn’t this a lesbian bar? I thought you only fuck women.”

“I never said that, you assumed it. I’ll fuck whoever I want, whenever I want to.” Her voice softens. “But only if they want to, too.”

“Yes,” he says, not quite believing it. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve never, uh…”

“Been fucked in the ass?”

“Right, that. Nothing like that. It’s a little…” he leans forward and whispers in her ear this time. “It’s a little gay.”

She releases another one of those laughs that sounds like a seal barking, and then keeps going. “There’s nothing gay about getting fucked in the ass by a woman, dude. Unless you are also a woman, which you are clearly not. Now come one.”

She grabs his hand and pulls him towards an open doorway at the back of the room. The bartender calls after her.

“Chloe! Come on! Really??”

“I’ll clean up after!” She shouts back with a laugh as she pulls him into a hallway. “We’ll be back in a few!”

“Is this something you do often?”

“Let’s just say it’s definitely something I’ve done before.” There are three little doors with fairies on them that line the right side of the hallway, and Chloe opens the middle door and pulls him in behind her. It’s a small room, with a toilet and a sink attached to the wall along one wall, and a little window high up in the ceiling. A fan turns on along with the light, a flickering thing that casts the whole room in a slightly blue glow.

“Are you really sure you want to do this?” Chloe’s voice sounds slightly breathless, and for some reason that turns Liam on more than anything.

“Yeah. Yes, please. How do I—” He’s shocked into silence when she grabs for his belt buckle and in three seconds flat his cock is out, hard and heavy across her palm. 

“Fuck, yeah,” she breathes, her cheeks rosy. “I knew you’d have a nice cock.”

“You did?” His voice rises too much when she wraps her hand around the head of his dick and squeezes it, which encourages a drop of precum to ooze out and drip down to her finger.

“Yeah, of course. Big guy like you? I’d expect you to have a nice big cock, too. Fuck, you’re too hot to be a fucking Proud Boy, what the hell.”

Liam’s head is swimming with surprise, and with lust. “You think I’m hot?”

“Of course.” Both her hands are on him now, squeezing him gently, and it feels so good he has to hold himself up at the edge of the sink to keep from collapsing. “Fuck, this cock. It would fill me up real good, I think.”

“Oh, shit. Do you want, uhh… I could—”

“Nope, not today. Turn around.” With that she lets his cock go and helps him turn around. He ends up in front of the sink, face to face with himself in the mirror. He looks unfamiliar, a little wild. His eyes are wide and his hair is a mess and his lips look full and red. Looking at his own mouth makes him think about Chloe’s mouth.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks without looking around. She’s by the door, so he can’t see her in the mirror, but he can hear her moving, and the sound of metal clinking against metal.

“Nope. Hey, hand me your jacket.”

Liam shrugs out of it and glances at her as he hands it over. She’s put on the harness over her clothes, and the large purple dildo juts out from the apex of her jean-clad thighs. Liam knows just enough to know that there are ways for women to get off while doing this particular act, but it won’t happen with clothes in the way. The idea of her doing this to him without getting off bothers him, even though he’s not sure why he cares. 

“Is that comfortable?”

“That’s not the point.” She turns around to hang his jacket on the hook at the back of the door, covering her bag.

“Won’t it be messy?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you—” 

“Not the fucking point, now turn around and lean over.” 

Chloe sounds angry again so he does as she asks, his hands back on the sink, and moments later she’s behind him, tugging his jeans and boxers down to his thighs and pressing into the globes of his ass with her thumbs.

“You’re a little flat, but you’ll do.” She tugs his hips back a big more and kicks his right foot out, bringing his whole backside lower. He can't help the moan that crawls out out of his throat as she continues to knead at him, from down in the crease of his legs near his balls, up and out towards his hips, then back again, a slow procession that makes his cock so hard it starts to leak and drip onto the floor.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you,” she murmurs after an especially loud moan. “You like how this feels.”

“It’s not what I expected,” Liam admits, his voice sounding deep and harsh in his own ears. “I thought you were just gonna fuck me.”

“I am fucking you,” Chloe chuckles. “Haven’t the Proud Boys ever heard of foreplay? I’m getting you ready, getting you to relax.”

“It’s working. I like it.”

“Do you? Do you want more?”

“Please,” Liam answers. “Fuck, _please_.”

“If you insist. This might be a little cold.”

There’s a drip of cold liquid on his backside that makes him yelp, but she shushes him and it warms quickly as her fingers press it into his skin. She holds his cheeks open with her left thumb and delves between them with her right hand, fingers keen and slick and oh so warm as they rub up against the tight furl of his asshole. When she finally breaches him he releases a deep whine; Chloe laughs, but it’s not unkind.

“Do you like that, baby?”

“Yes, god, yes—” She presses against something deep inside him that releases a wave of pleasure, so strong that his knees collapse briefly before he gains control of them again.

“That’s your prostate, baby. My cock’ll be rubbing against that so you need to get used to it, okay?”

“It just surprised me,” he answers breathily, and when she touches it again he manages to stay upright even though the shock of pleasure is just as strong the second time.

“Good boy. With enough practice you might be able to come untouched just from that, and wouldn’t that be fun?”

Liam makes some noise, no words but he wants her to know he likes what he heard. It would, indeed, be fun to come untouched with Chloe’s finger up his ass. It’s also surprisingly pleasant to be called a ‘good boy.’ He wants her to do it again.

“Two fingers now, okay? I need to get you stretched out good so you can take my cock.”

Her voice is so gentle, none of the anger there from before, and he’s empty for a moment before he’s full again, more full than before, and another gentle touch against his prostate that makes him shake. There’s another sensation after that, stretching, like she’s scissoring her fingers inside of him. 

“Good,” he says, “Feels good. So good.”

“I’m glad you think so, I like it too.”

“You do?” It surprises him that she would think of this as anything other than a chore.

She hums. “Yeah. You’re doing a new thing, with me, and it feels good. I’m making you feel good. Don’t you like to make other people feel good?”

“I don’t think about it.” But now he is thinking about it - thinking about making Chloe feel good. He could do it, he’s pretty sure. She could tell him how to do it. “I could make you feel good, Chloe.”

She pauses, her fingers still inside his body.

“How do you know my name?” The hardness is back in her voice, a tinge of anger, and Liam gallops forward to explain.

“Your friend called you that - Lisa, the bartender. She said your name.”

Chloe pulls her fingers out and he hears the sound of the lube bottle again, a wet squelching kind of noise.

“I didn’t notice. You notice a lot of things, don’t you baby?”

“I guess, sometimes. I notice things that matter.”

“What’s your name, baby?”

“Liam. Liam Wills.”

“Liam, that’s a nice name. You’re gonna take my cock now, Liam, okay? Be a good boy for me. Push like you’re taking a poop, that’ll help.”

He does as she asks, pushes his muscles, and then the head of the dildo is in him. It’s bigger than her fingers, and is cold and hard, stretches him out but it’s a good kind of stretch. It doesn’t hurt that the head of the dildo is also pressing right up against his prostate. She massages his asscheeks with her thumbs again, like she’s waiting for him to relax enough to keep going. But he doesn’t want to wait; he wants it now.

“More, please. I want more. I want all of you.”

Without another word she presses in - gently, slowly - thrusts in an inch or two at a time until there’s nowhere else for her to go and he is so full of her he thinks he might die of pleasure. She gives him a moment to acclimate, and then she starts to fuck him.

She starts gently but once she understands how much he’s enjoying it she speeds up, pairing a thick slide out with a harsh thrust back in, each time taking care to rub the edge of that cock head against his prostate. He’s not sure how she can do it perfectly every time but she does, it’s almost like she’s reading his mind, or reading his body itself. Her right hand, still slick with lube, holds his hip steady, but her other one makes its way up to tangle itself in his hair, gripping it and pulling his head back in rhythm with her thrusts into him from behind. His cock hangs, hard and heavy, each thrust forcing a droplet of precum off the tip and onto a slowly growing puddle below. He thinks about reaching down and touching it, he’d come quickly if he did, but he doesn’t. This feels so good and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever do this again, and he wants it to last. It occurs to him that he doesn’t know if he’ll ever see Chloe again at all, and the thought causes a stabbing pain in his heart. He pushes it quickly away, concentrating instead of the slide of her cock against his prostate.

Liam knows that he’s making some noise, but Chloe isn’t quiet either. Rather than the wordless whines that force themselves out of his throat, Chloe is saying sweet things, things that nobody has ever said to Liam before. She says that she loves his noises, loves knowing that he’s feeling good. And she calls him a _good boy_ , over and over. He’s not sure he is one, really, but maybe he would be one for her.

After a few minutes she slows down, lets go of his hair and stands upright.

“Your ass looks good with my cock in it, do you want a photo? To remember this by.”

Liam will never forget this experience, but he is curious about how it looks.

“Yeah. My phone’s in my jacket pocket, though.” It’s only a few feet to the door but from where he is it might as well be one hundred miles. Liam doesn’t want Chloe to leave to get it, and he’s not in any condition to get it himself. He’s surprised when his phone suddenly appears over his left shoulder.

“I anticipated this,” Chloe says, and Liam takes it and unlocks it with shaking fingers before handing it back.

“I’ll be careful not to get lube on it,” she promises, but he shrugs. She can cover it with lube, if she wants.

She’s still fucking him, but it’s more slowly and as the seconds tick by he’s getting a little bit frustrated.

“Are you okay back there?”

“Just having a little trouble finding the camera app, that’s all!” 

“It’s on the main screen.” It really shouldn’t be that hard, but maybe she has an Android and an iPhone is just that different. It takes her several more seconds before she says that she’s ready and he hears the click of the camera app.

“Can you take a video? Just a few seconds? Maybe… maybe say something?”

Chloe is quiet for a moment, thinking. “Okay,” she finally responds. “Yeah. I’ll take a video when you come, okay?”

Liam almost comes at the thought of that, but manages not too. “Okay!” He croaks out instead, and Chloe chuckles as though she knows exactly what he was thinking.

“How’s your cock doing?” She asks, once she’s back in her groove.

“Dripping.”

“I bet. Be a good boy and take it in hand, but don’t come until I tell you to, okay?”

Liam’s not sure it’s a realistic ask, but he answers yes and does what she tells him to. There’s so much stimulation, in his ass and against his cock and in his heart, but he does manage to hold back. It feels so good he wishes it could last forever.

“Okay, baby, I’m recording now. Are you ready to come?”

“ _Fuck_ , yes. I can come?”

“Not yet, Liam, be patient. Can you be patient?”

Her voice is crooning, gentle, and Liam relaxes. “Yes, I can be patient.”

“Good boy. When you watch this later, I want you to take a good look at how good your ass looks taking my cock. It stretches so well, almost like it was made for me. Was your ass made for me, Liam?”

“Yes,” he answers, holding the ‘s’ out for a couple of seconds longer than necessary.

“It was, wasn’t it. Now, watch this.” 

She holds his right cheek out, and then he feels her pull out, all the way out, and he is empty and bereft.

“Look at that, baby. Your little gaping asshole, wanting so bad for me to come back in. Whoops!” She slides the dildo back in, and Liam’s body welcomes it with a moan. “I like fucking you, Liam. You’re a good fuck. Are you a good fuck?”

“Yes.”

“Give your cock a squeeze, like a good boy.”

“Come?” He can barely form words, how can he be expected to speak a full sentence?”

“No come. One more thing. Are you a good boy?”

“Yes.” She’s called him one, many times in the past fifteen minutes or however long they’ve been in here. She said it, so it must be true. “Yes, I’m a good boy?”

“Are you a proud boy?”

It’s like a splash of cold water across his face, and Liam freezes, his whole body stiffening. Chloe’s right hand falls, warm and soft, where his shirt has rucked up from his lower back.

“Come on, baby. It’s a fair question. Are you a proud boy, or are you a good boy? You can't be both."

If he can’t be both then there is only one choice.

"Good boy, I'm a good boy."

"Yes you are.” He can hear the smile in his voice, and, perhaps ironically, that makes him feel proud. “You can come now."

Liam’s orgasm is strong, long and hard, at least three pulses that shoot cum down to the floor. It splatters up onto his jeans but he doesn’t care. Chloe fucks him through it and when he’s done whining she pulls out and reaches past him to moisten her pink washcloth under the tap.

“Just wait a sec, okay? Let me get you cleaned up.”

She’s gentle with that, too, wiping him carefully with the cloth and then helping him tug up his jeans before urging him over to sit on the toilet seat while she wipes his cum off the floor.

“I can do that,” he says, but she waves him off.

“All part of the service.” Liam laughs even though he’s not sure she’s joking. He wants to talk to her, so say more, but his head is still light from the orgasm and from everything else that’s happened since Google Maps let him astray, so he sits on the toilet with his dick out and silently watches her. He watches her unstrap the dildo and rinse it in the sink, wash her hands, pack everything back in her bag nice and neat. She slips his camera into the pocket of his jacket before handing it back.

“There you go.”

Liam thanks her and shugs it back on. “Thanks. Hey, does this mean we’re friends now?” He tries to keep his voice light but he’s sure she can hear the desperation there, and his heart sinks when she refuses to meet his gaze.

“Sure,” she says. “Why not.” She tugs the door open and a second later she’s half out. “I gotta go. Bye!” 

“Chloe!” He shouts after her, stands up to follow but he has to stop to put his dick away and zip himself up, and by the time he’s out into the bar she’s gone. There are some different people there now, Jack is back at the pool table but instead of the other two women she’s joined by a statuesque woman with a long black braid down her back and a thin man with a buzzcut wearing a vibrant purple shirt. They all look up at him as Lisa claps and yells from behind the bar.

“Hooray, he survived the ordeal! Come on over here, I have a fresh glass of Coke for you. On the house.”

“Thanks,” he says, gingerly taking a seat at his old stool. “Where did Chloe go?”

“She had a thing she had to do, I guess. You…” she gives him a dark look through the fringe of her eyelashes. “You didn’t do anything to her, did you?”

“No! No, she, uh, did everything. I did what she told me.”

Lisa shrugs. “I don’t know then. Chloe though, sometimes she needs space.”

“Time to digest things,” a new voice adds. It’s the man from the pool table; he shoves his hand in Liam’s face. “Jason. I heard you met Chloe.”

Liam has trouble parsing Jason’s expression, whether it’s amused or just annoyed, but he takes his hand and shakes it. “Liam Wills. And yeah, we, uh…” he gestures weakly towards the hallway as his ears heat with embarrassment. 

Lisa leaves to take an order, and Jason sits down next to Liam. He watches his friends play pool and toys with his watch, and Liam figures that he’s going to have to speak first.

“I think they mentioned you earlier,” he starts, and Jason nods. 

“Lisa and Jack got me up to speed.” He glances up at Liam, gives him a little smile. “You are much better off here than you would be at Jake’s, they’re right about that. There is nothing good for you there.”

“Were you a Proud Boy then?”

Jason nods, then shakes his head sadly. “For a while. It started slow, you know? I didn’t like a movie, and then I met people in chatrooms who didn’t like the same movie, and it turns out it’s really easy for people to weaponize your anger when you don’t realize that’s what's going on. I thought I just didn’t like a bad movie.”

“How did you get out?” Liam takes a sip of Coke, runs his fingers through the condensation that coats the glass.

Jason gestures his chin at the black-haired woman at the pool table. “That’s my sister, Susan. She and Chloe staged an intervention. Yes, Chloe,” he adds, seeing the expression on Liam’s face. “Chloe’s an old friend - one of my oldest. I went to a march and things went south, and when I came home they sat me down, took away my phone. Cut me off. It was hard, but that’s what it took.”

“And now you’re here,” Liam says, looking around. It’s not a bad place. Everyone here is nice, and he likes the music. 

“I’m here. Much worse places to be!”

“Yeah.” Liam reaches into his pocket and fingers his phone. “I don’t know. I don’t have anybody to stage an intervention for me, and Mr Johnson is going to be so pissed.” He pulls out the phone, and is shocked to find that there aren’t any messages waiting for him on his lockscreen. “What the hell?” He unlocks it and navigates to his messages.

The list is almost completely empty. There’s a thread of messages from grubhub, one from his mom and one from his dad, and a text from his childhood friend Chris that’s almost a year old. With shaking fingers he scrolls to the blocked numbers list. Liam’s never blocked a number in his life, but there are several there now, a dozen and maybe more. He doesn’t recognize the numbers but he knows who they must be, Mr Johnson and Ian and Fred and all the rest of those guys. 

“You okay?” Jason asks, but Liam waves him off.

“Yeah.”

He checks his apps. Signal is gone, and so is Parler; Telegram and Facebook and Twitter, they’ve all been trashed. He still has the accounts, of course, but he’d have to reinstall the apps, and that would take effort. Chloe did this - she must have done this, after he unlocked the phone, while she was fucking him, before she made a video of him admitting to being a ‘good boy’ and coming all over the bathroom floor.

Jason’s hand lands on his shoulder. “You sure you’re okay, dude? You’re shaking.”

“She deleted all my apps,” he says, holding the phone out so Jason can see it. There’s Grubhub, Apple Store, Apple Music, a few games, and that’s it. Liam is torn between anger that she dared to mess with his phone, and total relief. A drop of water falls onto the screen of his phone. Liam is humiliated to discover that he’s crying, but Jason doesn’t seem to care.

“She staged an intervention,” Jason replies, affection in his voice as he hands Liam a paper napkin from the stack on the bar. “I’m impressed.”

Liam dabs off his screen, and then his face. “They’re gonna be so mad. Mr Johnson will come looking for me.”

“Hey, fuck them.” Liam is shocked by Jason’s vitriol. The other man leans forward. “Really, fuck them. Fuck Mr Johnson and whoever else. Don’t worry about them, take care of yourself.”

Liam’s anger, abated, flows away completely, leaving him calm. He can do that - he can leave them behind, he can take care of himself. But there is one thing he knows he wants.

“Can I see Chloe again?”

Jason chuckles. “Man, that’s not up to me, that’s up to her, and she’s not here.”

“She ran off, as soon as we were done. Like she didn’t want to see me again.” He presses the balled-up napkin against his cheeks, to soak up the fresh tears.

“Well aren’t you a dramatic thing. We told you, that’s just Chloe. Did she clean you up?”

“Yeah, she did. Wait, have you—”

Jason holds up a hand. “No, man, we’re not like that, but I’ve heard stories.” He glances back over at the pool table and hops off his stool. “Anyway, time for me to play. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

Liam’s shocked and pleased at the invitation. “Yeah, for sure. Hey, Jason, can I have your number?” 

Jason takes the phone and sends himself a text. “Seriously, Liam, text me if you need someone to talk to. Okay?”

Liam promises that he will, says one final goodbye to Lisa and Jack, and slowly walks back out to his car.

He sits for a minute, going over everything that happened that afternoon, starting with a single misheard word. There’s a thought, rolling in the back of his head, and he’s afraid of being wrong but if he doesn’t check it’s going to make him crazy. So he pulls out his phone one more time, and navigates to his contacts list. It’s much shorter than it was earlier in the day, but there is one new contact: My Friend Chloe. 

His heart full, Liam grins and sends her a text. 


End file.
